Whenever a new week begins, even though things from the previous weeks may still be in progress, we get a "fresh" start. Every seven days, it's a "new" week. And for every new week, I'd like to challenge you to think of one new thing--whether it be an idea for a new short story, a new way to look at the world, or learning a new word in a different language--honor the gift of newness by bringing something new to your life every seven days.

By bringing at least one new thought, idea, or concept into your life every seven days, you are renewing yourself as well. It's a hopeful act; it's a confirmation of forward movement. It's easy to let one, two, three, or more days--even seven, or more--go by without ever thinking of something new. The status quo is comfortable. And it's nice to feel a sense of stability through comfort. Newness implies change; change means evolutuon--chaos. Because of our innate fear of falling, most of us are resistant to change when we are feeling comfortable. Change and stability don't exactly go hand in hand but stability matches well to comfort--which means, no change.

But thinking of one new thing each week will not disrupt the stability in your life--in fact, it will add to it.

While it's true new ideas can lead to revolution, when you pick up the challenge of bringing something new to your life every seven days--go with what Einstein might advise: Keep it simple. Learn how to make a new recipe. Read a new book. Look up something new about the environment. Learn a new word in a different language. Learn a new meditation technique. Use a new Yoga pose. You get the idea. I'm not talking about coming up with life changing epiphanies or strategies or goals each week--just bringing something fresh into your world every seven days to renew your spirit. We tend to take for  granted that we are these perfect human creatures with natural curiosity. We become so involved in everyday life that it becomes a chore to do anything more than what we have to on a day-to-day basis.

So this week, and again in the next seven days, I challenge you to bring something new, something simple, to your world. Renewing yourself can be as easy as bringing one new idea into your world every seven days. In a month, you'll have learned four new things. In a year, 48 new things. After a decade, almost 500 new things. If you can do this, you will find yourself feeling less frustrated by the world, feeling more in control, affirming your own agency.

Good luck in your quest for a new idea this week...mine is learning a new recipe. Don't worry about the next idea until seven days have passed. Be mindful of your new idea each day over the next seven. I guarantee you will begin to feel a little bit better about life for each new idea you accomplish, regardless of other happenings in your l.

Namaste, dear readers....

Rebecca

When something goes wrong, disappoints us, or leads to apparent failure, there is the tendency to ask "Why?". Unfortunately, that question is totally irrelevent in the scheme of things. The better question is "Why not?".

When we walk forward with confidence, we aren't imagining the pitfalls. We are running on our own steam, so to speak, moving ahead with every intention of completing our current course. But our confidence, our intentions, are not always enough.

My message today is only an echo of the great Winston Churchill's World War II sentiment: "Never, never, never give up."  Don't ask yourself why something you wanted or worked toward didn't happen. The "why" of any event is often arbitrary or a weaving of so many different threads, you wouldn't have been able to do anything about it anyway. Better to ask yourself before you begin any task: "Why not?"

This is not being pessimistic--it's being realistic. Like with quantum mechanics, there are infinite possibilities, infinite directions any situation or circumstance may take. In order to truly attain your goal, think about those possibilities--the good, the bad and the ugly.

I have a friend who was once my student; he is like me in that we both had social disadvantages and we both transcended those disadvantages to get where we are. We were recently chatting, and I was conveying how I'd had a severe disappointment. He reminded me that "people like us" always have a Plan B, C and D. In other words, those who have faced tremendous difficulty understand disappointment, and though not made of stone, we also understand that we must be pragmatic if we are to succeed. I hadn't forgotten that, not really. I just get tired sometimes. I'm exhausted frankly. And this friend is younger than I so has not had quite as many disappointments yet, though he's had some real doozies, I admit. What I mean here is that the more we suffer difficulty and disappointmnent, the harder it is to recover. Bounce back, if you will. I hate the phrase "bounce back." What are we, rubber balls?  We just propel ourselves forward and weee, up we go???  Unlike rubber, we fragile humans break when we hit a hard surface. It's not possible to truly "bounce back," and when such language becomes commonplace in society, when we don't "bounce back" like a non-sentient rubber ball, we're scrutinized. We're told to take a pill. We're told to put it aside. "Forget about it." That doesn't quite work. There are no magic pills. And sometimes, you simply can't forget.

So, when you can fully consider any major undertaking, you will ultimately be able to better handle whatever the outcome may be. You might fracture a bone or two, you might even feel like you've been smashed into tiny fragments, but you'll KNOW that you'll heal; you'll know you'll try something different. And you're confidence will return. At least, that's been my experience. Though I'm not quite healed enough yet to "bounce back" from my most recent difficulty, I do know exactly what I have to do when I'm ready in order to succeed the next time. 

Joseph Campbell said that "Life is pain." He was right. The Buddhist call life a model for suffering and impermanence. No matter how you put it, life is full of disappointment, full of difficulty--but if you dare to ask WHY NOT, you will find yourself able to take on any task, no matter how overwhelming. You'll find that though you may feel daunted, you know the steps necessary to succeed. That's pretty powerful.

We all fail; we have to. Success is only success if you've overcome  failure. There's a lot of artificial success in today's world that can be discouraging and distracting. Don't bother with asking why. Ignore that question. Always ask, "Why not?" and you'll ALWAYS be successful.

 

Best wishes,

Rebecca

  

 

Hey there!  Thanks for all the great hits on the site!  I was amazed to see that today there were so many, the stats were literally off the chart.

Well, I'm not sure why RebeccaHousel.com has become so popular, but I wanted to thank you, whoever you are, for checking in!

Tonight I just had a little inspiration to write...not that I need inspiration. Writing is like breathing. I can't NOT do it. While this may seem like a blessing, I've sometimes felt the weight of it like a burden you can't put down.

I've struggled mightily with this...this seemingly involuntary reflex. I hoped to choose my own path in life and made amazingly good attempts at doing so. But no matter how hard I fought against being a writer, I always ended up with the proverbial pen in my hand. It got so bad at one point, I even believed that my body kept escaping accidental death (at least six times over the last four decades) because I hadn't yet written what I was put on this earth to write. And that may yet prove to be true. Though I certainly hope not. My silly strings of sentences aren't that meaningful.

I feel a bit like Oedipus sometimes, not that I'm marrying my mother and killing my father anytime soon, but Oedipal in the way that no matter how much distance I attempted to put between me and my awful destiny, every effort I made to move further away only brought me closer. Now, I'm here. Staring destiny in the face. How often do we recognize this moment in our lives?

I haven't lived long enough yet to really know. I can only say that looking destiny in the face after atttempting to evade it for all these years is scary as hell. Luckily, I'm Jewish--hell isn't our thing really. It's all about interpretation--or, the journey.

You may think that if you looked destiny in the eye, you'd go for it--you'd just do it--like the famous Nike commercial. It's the same sort of feeling people have about precognition--like if they knew without a doubt what was going to happen next, they'd do things differently. It's not true--you wouldn't...and I suspect, too, that you couldn't.

While Relativity and Special Relativity would seem to support the theory of destiny to some degree, Quantum Mechanics throws that right out the window. It's simply not possible to predict the destiny of any subatomic particle--because the possibilities, the potential, is inifinite. Scary, isn't it? We humans feel like those subatomic particles--like anything is possible--as though we have no limits. But we do. We're confined to space therefore, we have limits. And therefore, we are susceptible to destiny.

So while the fact that writing has basically haunted me my whole life for some purpose I have yet to discover, it seemed as though I was able to make choices to stall that destiny. "Seemed" is the key word there.
 
I think that's what's bothered me all along. We think of destiny as a manifest of God's design, or a larger universal pattern--we tend to consider the concept through a positive lens. But why? We have no idea who's pushing the buttons and why. That concerns me. If destiny is real, and if choice is simply an illusion, that means that we are pawns, puppets--the image of the gods moving us around on some giant chess board comes to mind.

When I turned 35, I began to have a series of life epiphanies. It was wild. I was able to reflect on so much in what basically amounted to about 18 years of adulthood. None of those epiphanies dealt with destiny however. And more's the shame.

So here I am, at a crossroads (and we all know who waits at the crossroads, don't we?). It is apparent to me that the universe is hard set on my fulfilling this  destiny and that I won't be able to do anything else until I face my fears and just do it.

Just do it. Sounds simple. But I have this creeping feeling that it's anything but. Especially with writing. Especially mine. There's weight to this alright, a great weight. Every word is heavier than the next. Am I strong enough? I'm not sure that question is relevant but part of the journey is about asking such questions. I hope to find the answers.

May the Fates be with you on your journey, marching bravely toward your destiny....  March on, my friends, march on!

Rebecca

Day one of my new direction, and things are moving along. I made a hard decision today but it is a decision that supports my goals...score!  I had a HUGE epiphany and have a much better understanding of the universal context that brought me here (for me, it's an imperative to understand the "root" of everything--I'm an etymologist at heart...). I'm still unsure. I'm still scared. But I wrote the beginning of a new novel today; just the first few pages, but it's a beginning. Looks like today is the beginning of many beginnings....

"Bareisheet borah elokim et hashamayim v'et haoretz"="In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth...."  We all have to start somewhere...even God. It's the transliteration AND translation of the very first sentence of Genesis--or what is considered the beginning for many, many people on the planet. What's nice about it is, before Genesis, there were the Upanishads, before the Upanishads, paleolithic cave drawings...get it?  I didn't either at first. Basically, there have been infinite beginnings since, well, forever. Infinity is just that. That's not just reserved for the universe, you know. We ALL get infinite beginnings. Even if the world has beaten us so badly we feel we no longer deserve it.

This is the moment where Joseph Campbell might say I heard "the call" and I suppose I did just recently cross an important threshhold. We all know what happens next (especially if you were a student of mine): Moving into the wider world to continue to prove myself through a variety of trials. OR, Campbell may consider this moment at the other end of the cycle, a Magical Flight of sorts. Having gone through many trials already, I'm winging my way to Master of Two Worlds. In this way, the beginning and the end look much the same. I never really noticed that until now. Both are transitions to change. Both are an important part of evolution. And evolution doesn't stop.

Apparently, neither will I.

Just when I think I know what's next, the picture changes--it becomes fuzzy, or perhaps several seemingly constant elements shift--leaving me with a rather large question mark. I think that's how it should be.  For what is a journey if you already know all that will happen?


I received two interesting emails this week: One from a contributor to the book on film adaptation (From Camera Lens to Critical Lens, 2006) and another from a literary agent. The contributor, now well on his way to academic success as an advanced PhD candidate at a prestigious university, was writing to thank me for the opportunity to be published--now four years ago--in the anthology I edited for the Cambridge Scholars on film adaptation. You can find more information about it on my "Books" page--it's the only title there without a picture. The reason: The book was only published in hardcover and merely had the title in gold lettering on a black background. The book is still in print and is a real hit in college classrooms. It was my first stint editing an anthology, and I admittedly had a bit of help from a very good friend who kindly assisted me for close to a year as we formatted the book, completed the index, and edited every syllable. But back to the email:


This contributor talked about how he now understood the value of being given that opportunity at that moment in his career--and I know EXACTLY what he meant. Typically, in academia, professors editing anthologies look for well-established scholars as contributors. There is a method to this kind of madness, too, of course--it's not an elitist move, more practical than anything else. But for this volume, I was looking to promote people who don't usually get the chance to do this kind of collaborative work because, well, because I could. It was MY book in every sense--not part of a larger book series, like the Blackwell Series I've been working in for years now--but a single volume on film adaptation that was invited by the publisher. It was my project and I could do whatever I wanted with it. And my choice was to help people. People like this contributor. And the fact that this individual took the time, energy and effort to track me down and send me a detailed email--FOUR YEARS AFTER publication--tells me it was ALL worth it. This same contributor thanked me upon completion of the project, too--as did all the lovely contributors--but it is rare to have a collaborator come back YEARS later to express gratitude for all the GOOD the project promoted in that individual's life. What a wonderful gift. So wonderful, I had to share it with you.


But what does that have to do with a new direction? Hang on to that thought....

 

The other email was from an agent who wishes me to edit a book series; it is the third or fourth time I have heard from this particular person. I'm a writer, an editor--so what's the hold up?  Well, in publishing, particularly academic publishing--such projects are largely for no pay. Yes, there is a contract, and yes, there are royalties stipulated, but because the book is published for what is called the "library market," the number of books required to be sold in order to receive any royalties is absurdly high for the particular market. So why do it at all?  Well, as a professor, such efforts go toward tenure--or to put it another way for those of you who are not in academia--go toward becoming an "untouchable." It is a small price to pay for a lifetime of guaranteed pay and easy employment--being a professor is a fantastic job where one is paid to think, to write, to explore intellectual pursuits, and to help others do the same--it is one of the MOST rewarding jobs on the planet. And a door that is closed to me now. So there you see my dilemma: If I were looking at building my tenure, then this agent's query would be most welcome. However, it seems that now, there is no reason to pursue this kind of writing project. On the other hand, if I do decide to go forward, I will have a book series in the works with a viable publisher (we'll talk about the difference between legitimate publishers and what are called "vanity" presses another time). The next two or three years will see published books with my name on the cover...ah, the ego. Hard to quash that aspect of our humanity.

The other aspect of this proposed project is that I do not yet have ANY details or conditions of the contract. Aspiring writers take heed: Always, always learn the conditions or terms of the contract, even if you don't get the contract right away. Get something in writing--an email from the publisher or agent is fine--you just need some form of documentation to rely on in case you need to provide evidence of the terms later. It's not unprofessional, in fact, it's the opposite.


When you go "pro," you live by your writing efforts. You must try to get as many paid opportunities as possible. I went plenty of years doing small and large writing projects for practically nothing--sometimes, truly nothing! But I had to build my reputation, and putting in the time is necessary to doing just that. Now, despite the draw of the ego, I will not, cannot , take on a project for no pay--or for the promise of mythical royalties that can NEVER be reached. I will let you know what comes of this new opportunity. But my point in relaying these two seemingly unrelated events is to show one thing: Trust yourself. Maintain your integrity. And you will be successful.


The film adaptation volume never made any money, though it is still popular in many classrooms around the world. And perhaps an even better testimony, the book is still in print. But I didn't do that project for ego, not even for tenure. I did it because I knew I could use it as a mechanism to help others move forward in their lives. And I was right. Even years later, the proof of that effort is before me. Recently, given ALL that happened in 2009, I am attempting to once again trust myself. I am attempting to maintain my integrity. The offer to edit a book series is HUGE. I would LOVE the job. We'll see how that evolves--but I can say this: No matter how it evolves, I will not act against myself--that's where my integrity comes in. That's where your integrity comes in. How can you trust ANYONE who acts, often willingly, against their own best interests?  You must know that such individuals will eventually act against yours as well. While it seems elementary, the distraction of ego, the confusion of ambition, the pull to make money--all can make what seems to be a natural constant, shift out of focus. What is that constant?  You. Me. Everyone. I put in well over a year's worth of efforts to help others with the film adaptation volume (I didn't even have time to author a chapter myself!) but haven't even given close to a year to help myself move forward. How odd. How awful. How lacking in personal integrity. I was too busy chasing artificial goals to notice I had betrayed myself. Think it can't happen to you?  Think again.

 

How is this all related to deciding on a new direction? Well, they say your past is your future, your future, your past. Whoever the mythic "they" are, matters not. "They" are still right. If you have begun to feel like all you're doing is treading water, or spinning in circles, or running on a gerbil's wheel--you've most likely gotten yourself stuck in this pattern of self-betrayal for what you belive is the "greater good." I'm here to tell you there is NO greater good than learning to help yourself first and foremost. It's not easy to do. Though that might sound counterintuitive, trusting yourself and maintaining your integrity take a kind of courage and imagination that is simply not encouraged any longer in larger society. I think that's why I liked academia so much, oddly enough. In some ways, though conformity is mandatory (even if many academics believe themselves to be inclusive and unique--it's the irony of the "ivory tower" that everyone is the same in their "uniqueness"...), you also have a kind of autonomy to pursue what you wish--you get to maintain some of your integrity, some of yourself. Isn't that good enough?  Well, sure it is. But "good enough" will come back to haunt you someday. I've met that day over and over and over again. I've always been afraid to truly trust myself, to truly maintain my integrity, and, sadly, to truly be successful. I have been holding myself back in the name of others, and my "new direction" alluded  in the title is to attempt to actually put myself first.



That doesn't mean I won't be helping others; I need to help others to exist, and so do we all. But it does mean that I will be following Aristotle's advice at long last: I will be selfish first, giving second. I don't mean selfish with the negative connotation the word is often given, but selfish in that I will put my own goals as a priority now. There is nothing wrong with that. But as a woman, as a nurturer, as a mother, I've been trained to prioritize others over myself--the chemicals in my own brain betray me! But that's why I have a brain. To differentiate. To determine. To diligently work for myself, and then, others.

 

Whatever your direction in 2010, I wish you all the best of luck. I hope you can meet this year with positive echoes from your past, as well as positive glimpses of your future. Keep writing! Keep reading! And most importantly, keep yourself as a priority...and your success is sure to follow.

 

Until next time....

Rebecca

 

 

My brother is about eight years younger than me; because of that age difference, and a number of other factors, I felt extremely protective of him as we grew up. The night before he was born, my friend Robin was sleeping over. We were two giggling second-grade girls; it was during the February vacation from school. Around 10ish, my parents had us go to the apartment upstairs to stay with a neighbor, Janice. Janice, a single-mother, had a daughter a few years younger (but very bossy considering...I suppose she knew I'd indulge her--never had a poker face).

So now, three giggling girls, we sat up almost all night waiting to hear if my brother had yet been born. The news came later that day; he had been born, but there was a bit of a problem. Without going into too many details, the problem was life-threatening. My brother, given the appropriate name of Ethan, meaning "fortitude," went through a great deal just to stay on the planet in his first year of life. When I first laid eyes on him, I knew it was my job to protect him...he was my responsibility. He needed me. And he did.

He and I had an instant bond; the kind that not all siblings are lucky enough to have. We two are very lucky in that way, and others. Despite our differences in age, birth order, and gender, we are almost identical in how we think. We each look like one of our parents, so we don't look alike; in fact, if you saw us together, you may not, at first glance, even think we're related. Of course, that's just the surface--not only do we share a life-long love of all things space, including Star Trek (name the series and we've seen ALL the episodes, and I mean ALL the episodes), we also share the same sense of humor, the same  taste in food, wines, share the same moral and financial sensibilities (though those two things aren't necessarily related in and of themselves), both generous to a fault, and both of us are open people, willing to take risks. 

What I love most about my brother is how, no matter what, he is there, and so am I. We don't fight--not saying we agree on everything, but we really do love one another, really do respect one another, and really do understand one another in a way that surpasses typical human understanding. The bond again. Sometimes, it's almost as though I can hear his thoughts--that's how much alike we are. How close.

In the family, he's the engineer-brain--I'm the "writer." While I taught writing in a college classroom for the better part of two decades, he just completed his first decade as a computer engineer. I've been married for most of my adult life; he is just standing on the edge of such a decision. But what I think is remarkable, as I look backwards at our lives, is how much we both have meant to one another--despite what could have been insurmountable differences.

How many of us can say that about another human being? Even a sibling? When I think ahead, my brother is always part of that picture. I'd say he's as close to a best friend as anyone can get without that person being your spouse. I recently saw Angelina Jolie being interviewed on the Actor's Studio. She spoke about the bond between herself and her brother--how much she loved him, how much he meant to her. People thought their relationship may have been inappropriate; there was speculation about how close the two really were. I never found their relationship odd; I think part of the reason why is because I understand what it's like to have a sibling you are intensely close to--usually, that intensity springs from difficulty.

The night my brother was born was very exciting; I was scared, too--I remember looking up at the stars--it was a clear night--and thinking as I gazed upward, "please let him be safe..." as if I KNEW him before he even arrived. I remember thinking he would be a great man, not a President, but maybe an inventor--and that he'd love to look up at the stars as much as I did. Interestingly, he is a bit of an inventor--he can make anything--even built a working electrical lamp at the age of four! He also ended up loving space--the idea of the possibilities, those millions of stars up there beckoning us with every twinkle in the night sky.

 

My brother can't have the same benefit of knowing me my whole life as I've known him--he missed the first eight years. It is amazing to be there at the very beginning of a life--especially a life you feel so deeply connected to. My brother's birthday is next week--it's funny, but every year, I feel like I did when I was just that giggling little girl, as if the universe were about to deliver the very best gift any human could possibly ask for.

I may not know you, dear reader, may not know your family situation, or if you have any siblings at all--but what I can say is that you DESERVE to feel the same kind of connection my brother and I have. You DESERVE it. You may not think so--you may have five or six siblings and you may not like ANY of them. You may be a single child with no siblings. But you don't need a sibling to find this kind of connection. It's out there:

"Now voyager, sail thou forth to seek and find...."  (qWalt Whitman from his book of poetry, Leaves of Grass)

 
Rebecca

 

 

 

Day two of the second month of 2010 and the groundhog says another six weeks of winter--I know, shocking. :)  What else could this poor little groundhog possibly see?  It's only February 2nd--even more temperate areas of the Northeastern States will have cold weather through March! Humans.Probably why I prefer dogs....


My dog is one of the best "people" I know. She's discerning; she won't just befriend anybody, human or canine. She's intelligent; she "herds" me in the right direction when I lose focus. She's intuitive; she's great at "telling" me when I need to stop blubbering and "get on with it" (a la Monty Python).  She's Zen; she helps me breathe, meditate, and be mindful. All in all, she's one amazing dog.


The other night, I had some students over; I no longer teach, but I still actively keep in touch with about 350 or so previous students each week and about 600 or so more on an annual basis. I hadn't seen any of my previous students since my last book signing in October. It was nice to sit with the dozen or so young people, laughing, talking, philosophizing...and there was my dog, in the middle of it all--the star of the show, ingratiating herself by giving special attention to individuals, especially those who were more shy. Amazing, isn't it?  I've learned so much from my dog. And I know I'm not alone in how I feel about her.

 

Look at books like Marley & Me, which recently became a popular, if not heartbreaking movie, about what means to have good dog in your life. Anna Quindlen, one of the best writers of our times, also wrote about her experience in a 2007 short book. Stephen King...well, maybe he doesn't have a warm, fuzzy Fido story to share...Cujo, need I say more???

 

In all seriousness, dogs have been warming the hearts and minds of audiences, and artists, for a very long time. Lady with Lap Dog, not only a famous painting, but a famous story by Chekhov! We love our canine comrades!  So, when considering how you can kick start any life goal, start with a good dog. Motivated (mostly by food), attentive to details (particularly if there's a squirrel in the vicinity), and highly focused individuals (especially when a biscuit is pending), dogs have a lot to teach us. And we humans have a lot to learn.

 

If you're not a dog lover or don't live in a place you feel is appropriate for a dog, don't despair. Head to your local ASPCA or shelter; volunteer to help feed the animals and give them attention. With the Haiti tragedy looming so large these days, and a very worthy loom it is, other charitable organizations, like animal shelters, will be a bit neglected. Please do support the efforts to help the victims of Haiti--see my Home page on how you can do just that. But if you're like me and can't go to Haiti to help, send your donations to places like the Red Cross and Doctors Without Borders, then, go visit your local animal shelter and find ways you can donate your time to help some of the most worthy "people" on the planet.

 

Charles Dickens said, "Let sleeping dogs lie..." but while that's good advice when dealing with people or social issues, it's not the best advice when dealing with our furrier friends. Get out there and give a little time to those less celebrated but hardest working members of society: Dogs.

 

Until next time....

Rebecca